“Who is it?” asked Drake, his eyes alert.
“It's just Lee and Tommy,” said Alder.
Tommy pulled up next to Drake's car. Lee hopped out almost immediately, her gaze on Drake, while Tommy opened the back to get Ellie-Rose.
“We came by to steal some herbs from your garden,” said Lee. “Hope you don't mind.”
“Not at all.” Annie gestured towards Drake. “You remember Drake Webber.”
“Of course. My best customer for two weeks there.” Lee smiled in her gentle way but her eyes were distrusting. She didn't like him, Annie could tell. She'd been skeptical when Annie first told her what he'd offered to pay for one day of cooking. It still took Lee a long time to trust anyone outside her tight circle of friends.
Tommy, with Ellie-Rose on his hip, reached out to shake Drake's hand. “Don't believe we've met, though,” said Tommy.
“You're the singer,” said Drake. “I recognize you from your posters.”
“That's right. You should come hear us some time. We play four nights a week in the summer.”
“I don't think so,” said Drake. “Not my kind of thing.” He was staring at Ellie-Rose, like someone looking at an old photograph, perhaps pained at seeing the past one could not get back.
“Sure. Of course.” Tommy's face was open and kind, as always, but she could see he was trying to understand this mysterious man.
“Can you guys come in for a minute?” asked Annie. “I need to talk to you.”
Ellie-Rose was squirming in Tommy's arms. “Dada. Down. Me play with Alder.”
Alder held out his hands as Tommy set her on the ground. “Come on, munchkin. You can help me pack.” They headed, hand in hand, towards the house.
“Pack?” asked Lee, twisting around to look at Annie. “What's he talking about?”
“Wait,” called out Drake to Alder. “Don't go inside without me.” His voice was loud, almost panicked. Alder jumped and scooped up Ellie-Rose in his arms, standing still in the middle of the yard.
“Alder, you two stay out here until I make sure everything's all right,” said Drake.
“Okay, we will,” said Alder.
“Swing,” said Ellie-Rose, pointing at the swing hanging from the large oak in the front yard. Alder put her down and she ran towards it with him behind her. He set her on top of the flat swing. “Hold on tight,” he said, pushing her in a two-foot arc back and forth.
Drake looked over at Annie. He reached inside his car and pulled a small pistol out of the glove box before stuffing it in the pocket of his pants. “Don't worry,” he said to Annie. “I took shooting lessons for months. I'm perfectly safe.”
Tommy and Lee both stared at him as he headed towards the house. At the front door, he stopped. “Is it locked?” he called to Annie.
“Oh, yes, right,” she said, feeling Lee and Tommy's gaze boring a hole through her backside. She sprinted to the porch where she took the key from her purse and opened the door. “I don't think there's any way to get in,” she said to Drake. “The house is fairly secure.”
“Don't be ridiculous,” said Drake. “We're never safe. Especially not in a house without a security system. You need a locked gate and a system installed in this house. Even then, it's not safe.” He looked at her, his eyes empty of expression. “You stay here. I'll go in and make sure it's clear. Keep your friends and the kids out here, too.”
He reached for his gun, cocked it and went inside. He almost seemed like a cop the way he handled the gun, she thought. Or some kind of crazy vigilante.
The screen door slammed. She turned to see Tommy and Lee standing on the steps.
“What the hell's going on?” asked Lee, her face both scared and angry. “Why does he have a gun?”
“Sit,” said Annie, pointing to the steps. “I'll tell you everything.” She hesitated when tears threatened to stifle her voice but as succinctly as possible she told them of the phone calls from Marco and Drake Webber's offer.
“But why would he do this?” asked Lee. “He hardly knows you.”
“I don't know. But it's safer there with him than anywhere. You should see this house and security system. It's like something a movie star would have. There's no way to get in there.” Annie paused, wanting to bite her nails but keeping herself from it. “You don't know what Marco is capable of. He almost killed me more than once.”
Tommy was shaking his head, his eyes soft and sympathetic. “I had no idea. Why haven't you ever told us this before?”
“I thought it was all behind me. I never wanted to think about him ever again.” Her eyes filled. “I've tried so hard to keep all this from Alder. And now here he is again. I'm frightened out of my mind, you guys.”
Lee put her arm around her. “I'm so sorry. God, I know exactly how you feel, unfortunately.”
Just then Drake came out the front door. “All clear.”
They stood. Annie gestured for Alder to bring Ellie-Rose inside with them. “I don't want them outside alone from now on.”
“But what can be done to catch this guy?” asked Lee.
Ellie-Rose, running, stumbled in the grass, falling on her hands. She began to cry. Tommy, sprinting, reached her and pulled her up into his arms. “You're okay. Are you my tough girl?” He ran his hands down her arms and legs in the way parents do to ensure nothing was broken. He called over to Lee. “She's fine. Not even a scratch.”
Lee smiled, rolling her eyes at Annie. “Of course she is. She falls like fifty times a day. Papa bear is still so protective.”
Drake put his hand on the doorway, as if he might fall over. He was breathing heavily and his face was white. His lips looked almost purple.
“Drake, what's wrong?” asked Annie, putting her hand on his arm.
He gasped, like it was hard to breathe. “I'm having an attack.” He put his forehead on the doorframe now. Sweat pooled on his forehead. “In my car.” His chest rose and fell, as if he couldn't get enough air in, like a child with asthma. “My pills.” Another ragged breath, and then, “In the glove box.”
Annie ran to his car and yanked open the glove box. Nestled beside a road map and car registration was a prescription bottle with a drug she didn't recognize. By the time she turned to run back towards the house the porch was empty. She darted across the grass and went inside the house. Tommy had, apparently, transformed from daddy to paramedic mode in a split second. Drake was sprawled on the couch with the top two buttons of his shirt undone, with Tommy kneeling next to him. Lee was coming out of the kitchen with a cold glass of water. Annie shook a pill into her hand before giving it to Tommy, who then helped Drake sit up and swallow it.
“Where are the kids?” whispered Annie to Lee, worried they were frightened.
“Eating a cookie in the kitchen,” said Lee. “They're fine. I told Ellie-Rose that Mr. Webber has a booboo.”
“Sweetheart,” said Tommy to Lee, “would you get my paramedic bag out of the car?”
“Of course,” said Lee, looking apologetic and glancing at Annie. “I should've figured that one out on my own.”
After she returned with the bag, the two of them hung near the doorway between the kitchen and the living room, watching Tommy listen to Drake's heart and take his pulse and temperature. But Drake's breathing was back to normal. The color had returned to his cheeks.
“You been having these anxiety attacks long?” asked Tommy, perching on the coffee table.
“Three years,” said Drake, staring at the ceiling, still flat on his back. “So embarrassing this happened now.”
“Don't worry about it, man. We're all friends here.”
“So let me get this straight, Tommy. You're a paramedic and a musician?”
“And a firefighter and a songwriter.” Tommy chuckled. “I know. It's weird. But you get used to it after a while and I'll seem totally normal.” He looked over at Lee and Annie. “Right, girls?”
“Honey, no one in this house thinks you're normal,” said Lee. “But we love you anyway.”
For the first time since they'd arrived, Drake seemed to relax. The corners of his mouth turned up into an almost smile. “Well, then, you'll understand perfectly that I have every intention of becoming a recluse on the side of my mountain. That's about as weird as you get.”
“Is it because of your attacks? You don't want to be around people?” asked Tommy in a gentle tone. Only Tommy could ask such a personal question and make it sound non-intrusive.
Drake's face twitched in that same way she'd seen twice already that day. “You'd think that, but no, actually. My attacks are a symptom of something else. Something I don't talk about.” He sat up. “That said, this was truly embarrassing.” He held out his hand to Tommy. “Hell of a first meeting.”
The men shared a smile. Leave it to Tommy, thought Annie, to loosen up the elusive Drake Webber.
Lee came into the living room and sat on the couch next to Drake. “We're appreciative of you offering to help Annie and Alder. But we don't know you. We have no idea if you're a safe haven, regardless of your security system.” Her voice was cold and firm, like it was when she negotiated with vendors.
Drake looked her in the eyes. Both of them steely, thought Annie. Good business people—not all soft and mushy like Tommy and me. “I understand completely why you would be skeptical. Just know this. It makes me sick to think of any woman or child in danger. If there was anything I could do to make it safe for them, despite my own issues, which, as you can see by this little episode today, are extensive, I will not hesitate to do everything in my power to help. I couldn't live with myself if something happened to them because I chose to do nothing when I have so many resources to help. That's all it is. No agenda. I don't need anything from them. I don't need anything from anyone. And I have no need or desire for human companionship. So, as much as I understand your concerns, hell, I would have them myself if it were my best friend, you needn't worry.”
Lee continued to look at Drake for a moment. And then, perhaps she was convinced or perhaps this new thought occurred to her, she moved her gaze to Annie. “What about the restaurant? You won't be safe there. He'll go there first.”
“Is there a way to ensure she's never alone?” asked Drake. “I'll drive her to and from work.”
Lee glanced at Tommy. “No one is ever there alone except me in the mornings sometimes when I'm doing the books. However, none of us will be any good against a man with weapons.”
Tommy smiled. “Except Cindi.” He looked over at Drake. “That's our bartender. She packs heat wherever she goes.”
Lee crossed her arms over her chest, looking worried. “I don't know. Do you think Billy could cook for you? Just until they catch this guy?”
Annie's heart sank. How could she let someone else take over her restaurant? Billy was a good assistant chef, no question. And they had several prep cooks now that the restaurant was doing so well. But could she really leave her baby in the hands of someone else? “No. I can't give Marco this much control. And there's safety in numbers.” She pushed a stray curl away from her eyes. “Anyway, I think I need to be at the restaurant. As bait. Otherwise we'll never catch him.”
Tommy's head was cocked to one side. “I hate to say it, but maybe we should get you a gun.”
“I wouldn't know how to use it,” said Annie.
“I could teach you,” said Drake. “Just the basics so you don't hurt yourself. I have an extra one at the house.”
“Maybe I could just poison him,” said Annie. “With some kind of herb concoction or something.”
“Good idea,” said Lee, with an ironic tone to her voice. “But when he's trying to kill you he may not have an appetite.”
“Yeah. Right,” said Annie, with a grimace. “He did always like my cooking though. Between beating the crap out of me he used to enjoy my shrimp scampi quite a bit.”
Chapter Eight
THAT EVENING, back in Drake's kitchen, Annie tossed together the first of Ellen's summer squash, green beans, and some chicken into a simple stir-fry. It was one of Alder's favorites, despite the fact that it was low calorie and healthy. She always used fresh basil, oyster sauce, and a few chili peppers to give it a kick.
Drake came into the kitchen, dressed in workout clothes, just as she was about to serve it onto plates. “Where would you like your dinner?” she asked him.
He went to the cupboard and pulled out a glass, filling it with water at the sink before leaning against the counter. “I didn't expect you to cook another meal for me. I could've heated up what was in the freezer.” His hair was damp at his neckline, as was his shirt.
“I know, but I had to make something for Alder, anyway.”
“And yourself, too, right?”
“I'm not that hungry,” she said.
“You don't eat much.” He noticed that?
“I eat enough.”
“You need to take care of yourself. For Alder. And to keep up with your job.”
“Trying to keep that thirty pounds off,” she said lightly.
He looked as if he wanted to say something but instead moved towards the front room. “Would you mind keeping it warm for a minute? I'd love a shower first.”
“Of course.”
Alder came in as Drake was leaving. “Hey, Drake,” said Alder. “I'm thirty pages into Huck. It's so awesome.”
“Best boy book ever written.” Drake smiled. “I'll be right back, Annie. But you guys eat without me. I'll just take this to my room.”
“I'll put it on a tray for you,” she said, feeling disappointed. Of course he wouldn't eat with them. It wasn't like they were friends. Don't get your hopes up, she warned herself.
“Great.” And then he was gone.
Alder sat at the counter as she served him a large portion over rice. “Oh, man, Mom, does it have to be brown rice all the time now?”
“Yes, it does. You'll thank me someday.”
She served a small portion with mostly vegetables for herself and sat next to him. “You all right with this whole situation?”
“Don't see much of a choice, Mom. And it's not like it isn't an awesome place to hang out. I'm just worried about you going to work tomorrow.”
“Well, Tommy and Lee will be there. We'll tell the staff about Marco. Everyone looks out for me there. You know that. Plus, Linus will keep an eye out from his window at the inn. And Ellen will keep watch on our place and notify the police the minute she sees anything. We're in good hands.”
Alder shoved several pieces of chicken into his mouth and chewed, staring into space. Then he turned to look at her. “Mom, what were you doing with him?”
“Marco, you mean?”
“Yeah.” He stabbed a green bean with his fork, eyeing it like it was a suspect.
She sighed. Of course it was the inevitable question. It was the question she'd asked herself a thousand times. The only thing she ever came up with was—Alder. She'd been with him in order to get Alder. Despite how much she loved her work, he was the best thing she'd ever done. He was the best part of her and the light of her life. But he wouldn't understand this all-consuming love until he was a father someday. For now, she needed to explain it to him in a way that would make it palpable to him. “I don't know exactly, honey. It's hard to explain, really, what it was like to grow up with your grandmother. There wasn't a lot of stability and I was really young when I met Marco. My mother had this boyfriend that lived with us when I was a junior in high school that was always…” She trailed off. How could she explain to her young son that this boyfriend of her mother's, Phil Turner was his name—she would never forget it—had touched her inappropriately?
She was seventeen the first time he brushed against her as she washed dishes at the sink after dinner. Her heart jumped to her throat, but she dismissed it. Perhaps it was an accident, she convinced herself. Just a moment of being unsteady on his feet. But the next day it happened again and this time he lingered so that she smelled the beer on his breath. She'd known, even at seventeen, that it was
only a matter of time before he showed up in her bed in the middle of the night. Terrified, she barricaded the door every night with a chest. But she knew there would be a time when he was able to get her alone. She shuddered, even now, thinking of it. Each day it progressed to bolder and bolder moves until one day in early spring he put his hand on her thigh under the table at dinner. The next night he brushed his finger against her breast while she washed the dishes. She had known better than to say anything to her mother. She would not have been believed, and she knew, too, that if a choice were to be made, her mother would always choose a man over her. This had been proven many times.
Annie figured out ways to stay away. At first she hung out at local fast food places after school, stuffing French fries and milkshakes into her mouth. The food soothed her for the moment and released some of the anxiety until she had to go home, at which point it all came rushing back. Towards the end of her junior year, walking home from school, she saw a “Help Wanted” sign in a local Italian restaurant, looking for a prep cook for the nightshift—a perfect solution, as it would keep her away from home late into the night. And she would get to cook. This was all she wanted. Just to work in a professional kitchen, no matter how menial the task.
When she was twelve, her mother dated a man from Italy. He would come to their house carrying bags of fresh produce and proteins. Unlike most of her mother's boyfriends, he liked Annie, welcoming her into the kitchen to cook with him. One day he taught her how to make fresh pasta. Another time he schooled her in the delicate flavors of the perfect red sauce. After he left, his lessons remained in her consciousness. She knew from that point on what she wanted to do with her life; she wanted to be a chef.
At the restaurant, the chef, an Italian man named Carlo Gionetti, noticed her enthusiasm and began teaching her more and more techniques. A few months into her time there, he suggested she think about culinary school. It was the first time anyone had suggested a future of any kind. At school she faded into the walls: an average student with no particular talent. But he saw something no one else had. She belonged in the kitchen. Several years later his recommendation would help her get into culinary school.
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